But I didn’t make it because we were kidnapped, my mother, the queen and I.
“Home,” I said, hoping to make him understand.
“The dark faeries...”
“The dark faeries?” His voice elevated, panic and anxiety lacing it.
“The cell... I’m in a...”
Where was I exactly?
I wasn’t sure. The stretch of forest we’d walked through didn’t look like the forest I remembered, and I’d been too focused on my mother—the queen—who’d they’d separated me from, to notice any distinguishing markings...
“It looks like the secret rooms... like the one where we—”
“Is it well decorated?” he asked, and I felt a sharp pang of panic.
Now was the time to discuss interior decorating!
“I don’t see how—”
“Is it livable? Plush?”
God, I hope that doesn’t mean I’m stuck here forever...
The memory of my tripping over roots pushed forth, and I nodded, hoping he could see me. He was still so far away...
“I tripped over a tree root when I’d been sequestered into my cell.”
I continued to run, but the fire looked as if it was fading.
No, no, no...
“Bane...” I called out, but he didn’t answer. I called his name again.
The flame flickered in the distance as I pushed my legs faster, trying to catch it, trying to hold on to him for just a little longer, so I could tell him.
Where I was, that I was sorry, and that I hoped to see him again.
I awakened to the chill crisp air, and the scent of charred flesh. My eyes were hazy as I tried to filter in bright light, but it was not sunlight. It was artificial, and it was blinding.
My body felt heavy, my uniform scratching against my skin. I tried to move but it was no use. I was chained. The bed I lay on was more like a medical slab, and the air was pungent with the scent of burning.
I groggily groaned as my eyesight sharpened, as I took in my surroundings. My mother lay by my side, asleep. Her chest rose and fell as if she was in nothing more than a deep sleep. I tried to move, but it was no use. My arms were restrained by some unknown force, as I didn’t see cuffs or restraints, but I could feel them over my skin, along my body.
Like a spell.
I glanced around the room, trying to discern where I was.
The ley lines beneath me buzzed and the smell of petrichor was adamant. Trees surrounded us, and I realized this was a deeper part of the wood. The trees themselves still boasted castle-like carvings, but where the ones I’d seen before in my vision were golden, these ones were stark black.
I remembered my second week in Professor O’Connor’s class, were we learned about the legend ofTír na nÓg,the fabled Celtic lands of paradise.
I remembered him specifically touting about its golden gates, its beauty and effervescence.
Beneath the black vines and thorns, I could still faintly see the golden arches, reminiscent of the one I’d walked through only weeks ago...
The dark faeries had poisoned this place of beauty.
